


The Knight

by morningmaple (yukiscorpio)



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 22:25:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1527878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukiscorpio/pseuds/morningmaple
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the future. One of the possible futures, not where Lucina's from and not the Future Past DLC. This is Lucina and Frederick's story.</p><p>Contains general game spoilers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Knight

**Author's Note:**

> This is not going to be everyone's cup of tea and you're probably going wtf they don't even have support dialogue, but I just had to write it to get it out of my system, ahahahaha, and since I've written it I might as well post it. orz

She thought he was dead.

She wasn't afraid, just incredibly sad. Even when she walked closer and saw that he still breathed, the sadness didn't leave, because he carried her father's sword and shield and she understood what that meant despite being only in her preadolescence.

He fell from the horse, landing like a ragdoll, shoulder first, then his hips and legs, finally his head. His arms clutching tight at the clothed bundle against his chest, he didn't try to break the fall. He didn't even make a sound.

She went up to him, touched his cheek with her hand, and his eyes began to focus. She could feel him trembling - he had clenched his jaw tight so as to prevent himself from crying out in pain.

Putting her hand on the hilt of the sword, still held by him, she spoke the words she had heard others speak before.

"A knight is brave and true, aids all in need, and defends the weak from evil." There was more, but that was all she could remember. "Would you serve me, as you had served my father?"

It took him a while to compose himself, to swallow the blood in his mouth, to dare to speak.

"Aye... milady."

 

He recovered, thanks to the tireless work of the princess and the others. He felt ashamed to still be breathing, but the princess said he did what he must, which was to bring home the only things that could end this war. "You brought us our only hope," she told him, although her tears said that all he brought them was despair, for he was still alive whereas her brother was dead. He didn't protect her brother with his life as he said he would.

The younger princess, no, the new exalt, looked up at him as if she expected something. Apologies, perhaps, but he never said them, because if he started he would never stop.

 

The world without the prince struggled to stay as one. In the years that followed, he and the others led one campaign after another to banish evil, each time thinking that he may not return but always did, dragging his empty husk back to the castle to face his failures.

It was his punishment for surviving his liege.

There was once, before the exalt's twelfth birthday, when he received a blow to the chest and thought he was finally going to be released from this hell. But when he came to he was in a bed, and someone was fixing his ribbon tie.

"It's come loose," said the young exalt. "That's no good."

Unsure how he should react, he said nothing. She continued the task, small fingers battling with the slippery fabric.

"Hmm. A challenge."

The words stunned him, then laughter bubbled forth from his chest, pouring out of him before he even knew it. And it rang so foreign to his ears until she joined in, then it just sounded right and, oddly, like _life_.

It took a few attempts before the tie was done to her satisfaction.

"I'm not very good at it because you keep doing it for me," she pointed at her own ribbon bow, "when you should have taught me how."

"My apologies."

"Teach me the sword."

He gaped at her. The prince had trained her even at a very young age, but how could he presume he could teach her anything when he couldn't even protect her father?

Her eyes pinned him there, the Brand clear to see, reminding him of his oath to serve, that her wish was his command.

He nodded. "We begin tomorrow."

"We begin when you are healed."

"'Tis but a scratch."

She laughed again, and he wondered how anyone could sound both innocent and wise at that age. "Fine. We begin tomorrow."

 

The delicate child grew, not so much blossom as forcibly, gracelessly became taller, stronger, smarter. She didn't care about being a lady, didn't want to have long hair nor wear dresses - those things would only get in the way in a fight. Not that she had ever been in one. She was fourteen, as old as when her aunt first journeyed with the vigilante force, she could hold her own but they wouldn't let her fight. Lately they would not even let her out of the castle. Her wish was their command, except for this.

One night she went to the courtyard and slipped through the gap in the wall behind the maple grove, then down the paths she had once walked with her father, her hand in his. Now her hands were empty, instead she had a sword strapped at her side. She could fight and she was going to prove it.

It wasn't even two hundred yards to the nearest town and there, for the first time, she laid eyes on those _things_. Horrid beings with glowing eyes and rotting skin. Soldiers, vigilantes, people desperate to protect their homes and families, everyone was fighting. The ground trembled when spells landed. People were screaming in pain.

One of those _things_ came up to her. She struck it down, the first time she ever cut a living being - if it was alive at all - with a sword. Her father had taught her how. And after he passed, she had a great teacher. The best. Invincible. Her knight, who always came home alive, brushing off every injury as a mere scratch.

Her knight, who spotted her and blocked a blow meant for her head when those things surrounded her and she panicked, having no experience in fighting so many at once.

Her knight, who went down on one knee before her, mindless of the injury she just caused him to sustain, and checked her over, looking near frantic.

"Are you injured?"

She bite down on her lips.

"Milady? Where does it hurt?"

She looked at his worried face. It hurt, because she had been so naive. Why wasn't he scolding her? He fought to keep the town safe, to keep the castle safe. To keep _her_ safe. And just what was she trying to prove? What was her meager experience before the one who had wielded the sword for longer than she had lived?

"You're bleeding," she said.

He shook his head. It was unimportant.

"'Tis but a scratch?" she tried.

Now he smiled. "Indeed."

In the night, his eyes were so dark, but they were just as warm as his smile.

 

They pushed the onslaught out of the capital, creating a haven for all those fleeing for their lives. It was all they could do now; the gems to call for divine power were nowhere to be found.

Then everything they had done, all the sacrifices they had made, crumbled to dust, shattered by the roar of the dragon.

All hope was silenced.

The capital was the first target, the beginning of the end. Great talons ripped apart not just flesh, but even stone. The castle fell as if it was made of mud.

He could not defend the weak as his oath mandated. How could a man challenge a mountain? Where would one even strike? He fled, like a coward, clutching the hand of the one he must protect, his young liege, his only joy, his only reason for living.

Returning after the beast had moved on, what they found was death. There was only death. The soil beneath their feet was deep red. To their left, large lumps of what looked like cinder, with only their shapes to show they were once human. To their right, a dead pegasus kneeling on its front legs, its wings twisted out of shape, bones protruding through flesh, skin and feathers.

This was indiscriminate death and destruction. No one should have to witness this, let alone someone so young.

How did things come to this? She was the third leader he served. The third he failed.

No matter what anyone said, he had lost the right to be called a knight long ago.

 

It was important that she kept smiling, she realised.

The surviving fighters regrouped. They tried to save lives. They tried to carry on. She was no delicate flower, but life was tough.

But if she didn't smile, then neither would he.

 

Everywhere they went, there was little else but death.

When he announced that they should focus their search on the gems rather than on survivors, some looked to him as if he was a monster.

And that was fine. He had been no man since his prince died.

They wanted to take her away from him.

And that was fine. He never deserved her forgiveness nor her smile.

He walked away.

 

It was ironic. With no one to protect and so little left of the world to save, it became easier to find those elusive stones. Half a year was all it took to locate the first.

He should return to the group; maybe they had found the other ones. But he lacked the strength. He lay there, the bright red of his life flowing away from him, and prayed. He had to continue. She deserved better than one sword and a world of troubles - those were the prince's dying words. And those words rang true, now more than ever.

But it was over. In his mind's eye he saw her, and the idea that he could see her one last time, even like this, made him smile.

She peered over him as she once did years ago, but instead of doing his ribbon tie, she pressed something to his lips.

The taste woke him from his daze and he turned his head away. This was no hallucination. She truly was here, wasting one of the most precious medicines on a wretched man like him.

"Drink."

He obeyed.

He stayed silent as she fixed his tie. She had grown taller, and she had lost even more weight since he last saw her. Her body was flat planes and sharp angles, her hands calloused and scabbed. 

He tried to look around - where were the others?

And then it struck him: she was on her own.

"What did I say about sneaking away?"

"You didn't," she replied with a twinkle in her eye.

 

Whilst she washed, he cooked, his back turned but near enough to watch for trouble. She didn't care either way; she had the shape of a boy, with no curves that would interest anyone.

The day's catch was a small bear and a couple of rabbits, more than plenty for two. He was already making jerky to take on the road.

She poked at her food - she hated bear. But this was not the time to be picky.

He eyed her, then took the bear meat, giving her the rest of the rabbit instead.

"Is this really okay?" she asked.

He frowned, then reached forward again, and carefully trimmed around where he had just eaten on the rabbit meat. "Beg pardon."

"No, I mean…"

"Please eat, you're malnourished."

She didn't come to be his burden, but here she was, freshly clothed and fed whilst he choked down his food quickly so that he could prepare for their journey ahead. He could not even wash because he would not have her stand guard on her own.

"Milady."

She nodded and ate.

 

He had never found himself so desperate to please someone.

No, that was the wrong way to put it. He trained her harder than he had any student. Methods of survival were as important as the way of the sword now. Even when they were exhausted from travel and had already battled for their own safety, he made her work. If she did not want this, she could go with the others.

But he also did whatever he could think of to make their journey as merry as possible, because no one deserved this.

His quips were dull and his jokes flat, but she never seemed to mind. She would giggle whenever he put a random flower in her food. She loved every anecdote he told about his younger days.

Still, was he doing the right thing?

 

Although her hair had grown out, she would never grow as tall as he. But she was a better tree climber. From where she perched on the branch, she threw fruits at him, aiming for his head, cringing with minimal sympathy when one did land on him with loud thunk.

He rubbed his head with the heel of a palm. "Milady is stronger than she realises, and a bit of a monkey."

In apology, she prepared the meal that day. His brows raised when she handed him his food.

"What is this?"

"Can you not tell?"

"I can tell it has been arranged in a specific manner..." he said, now suspicious.

She pointed at the long blade of grass she had used to tie into a bow. "Clue."

He shook his head.

"It's your face! That's your tie. And here's your mouth, pulled in a constant scowl..."

Watching him gawk at the food, laughter spilled from her lips.

"I am unsure if I should feel complimented or insulted. And why would one want to eat something that… 'resembles' one's own face?"

She shrugged, and swapped their makeshift plates.

"I'll eat it then. I like your face."

 

He had never doubted how strong she was, or how strong she would become. He no longer considered her his student in the sword. She fought with a flair that reminded him of her father, but not much of himself. That, he did not mind; he had only ever been a substitute.

Her growth was a better measure of time than anything; he had lost count of the days long ago. How old must she be now? Sixteen? Seventeen? Or older? If the gods were good and the prince and princess were looking down on them, he knew that they would be proud of her. How far she had come since the day she asked him to teach her to fight. He would not hesitate to put his life in her hands.

It was just that…

No. He must be losing his mind.

 

The others retrieved another gem. They met up only briefly - large groups of people attracted disproportionate amounts of evil, a fact they learned the hard way.

She watched him go with one of the others, herself sharing a meal with her cousin, a comedic young man who knew how to bring a smile to anyone's face.

She looked well, he said, and her dark long locks most luxurious indeed. This beauty brought a bright spark to their saga, which he was chronicling. Ah, did she feel a surge in the blood lately? It must be the curse of their bloodline's uncontrollable power… May the gods guide his sword hand...

Her cousin's voice became a background sound when she saw the knight return. He nodded curtly at the woman he was talking to before they parted.

"Sorry, I think it's time to go." She stood, patted her cousin on the shoulder, then rejoined the knight.

When they were alone once more, she stopped him, and redid his ribbon tie. The woman who tied it for him did such a sloppy job it made her angry, fingers trembling like they did the first time she did this.

"Milady…" Red-faced, he started, but could not continue.

It was fine. She understood. She would only ever be a child, not a woman, in his eyes.

She knew, since age fourteen, what he meant to her. But she also knew what she meant to him, and the two were not the same.

 

She would not let him wash her clothes. She insisted on cooking her own meals. She would not permit him to do anything for her.

Did she find him… repulsive? He had sought passion from a woman he was not wedded to or even romantically involved with. It was not honourable, but he had not thought that she would notice.

Of course she reacted this way. He was the one she looked to for moral guidance, and he fell far below the standard she expected of him.

"Sire."

She gave him a sidelong look.

"I apologise. My conduct back when we met the others was inexcusable." It was merely a physical need. If it resulted in he not being allowed to perform his duties, then it was wrong and he didn't need it.

Her face reddened, and she turned away. "I don't know what you're speaking of. I had a pleasant meal with my cousin. It was a lovely evening."

The only thing he truly needed was her smile.

It was just that...

He dipped his head, ashamed.

"I… want to bathe. Would that be all right?"

"Of course, milady"

 

From the lake, she studied him. He never turned around. She was ugly. Undesirable. Unloved.

 

He stood close to the lake, his sword drawn, his back to her. Her clothes were by his feet. He could hear her in the water.

...He wanted to hold her.

A man like him, who had failed to protect her family. Older than her father would be if he was alive. Just the thought of it was a sin. The idea that he was qualified to love her was beyond absurd.

 

They never talked about that day again.

 

She stopped smiling.

 

The fourth gem was in hand. They were so close to the goal. They were still alive.

And they were so weary. Whenever they encountered places that were not just scorched earth, it became near impossible to keep going - they just wanted to stay, forever, not caring about this world any longer. Let evil win, nothing mattered anymore.

Or maybe it was only him. Perhaps even he had his limits. He wasn't the same tireless man of his youth, known for sleeping little and still with enough energy to complete every task with fervour. Now, he could feel that something was not quite the same with each step he took, after each wound was closed, as if there was more damage to just flesh and bone. As if there was more to him than just a husk.

They arrived at yet another abandoned village. Whilst she prepared their lodgings, he cooked and preserved the food they had gathered and hunted.

They were scheduled to meet with the others here soon. Everything would be fine. She no longer smiled because she no longer needed him.

He slept.

 

When he opened his eyes again, she was there, kneeling beside him, tying and retying the ribbon around his collar.

For a knight, she said, this was unacceptably lazy. He had slept for three days straight. Three days! She had to check his breathing to make sure he wasn't dead. Did he think he could just leave his duties like this? When they returned home she was going to have his knighthood revoked and sentence him to a life of eating only bear meat.

It wasn't until he tried to speak that she stopped, uncorked a waterskin and pressed it to his lips.

She was sorry. She knew how exhausted he was. She understood that he needed to rest, to de-stress. She understood that he needed human contact, she wasn't going to get mad at him again. She had no right. Please don't leave her. She had never taken him for granted and she never would. Please smile. Drink some water, he must be thirsty. Please smile.

Dehydrated and starved, his mind in a daze after the long sleep, he couldn't make sense of most of what she said, except for a few words.

"You…" he felt like his throat had been rubbed against a whetstone, "you first, milady."

She put down the waterskin, did his ribbon tie one more time, and smiled.

 

The others arrived. The gathering was smaller every time.

He ate, washed, and felt better.

She kept her distance. It took him a full day to recall all the words she had said when he came to.

She wasn't avoiding him - she was giving him space.

He found her by the campfire. Her gaze flicked to his collar before she caught herself, looking away immediately.

"Sire. May I?"

"Of course…"

He stood beside her.

"Your happiness is my highest priority and my greatest joy. There is nothing else that I need."

"Because I am of exalted blood, and you take pride in serving me."

"Aye."

"And you will continue to serve me," she turned to him, "until when?"

Until? Why would she ask such a question?

Then he remembered: she was afraid of him leaving her.

"Until I perish, I will be here. To serve you..." he steadied his voice, "and your children, should you choose to have a family."

"As you did for my father."

"As I did for your father."

She nodded, falling silent. He repeated the conversation in his head - did he say something wrong?

"Milady?"

Her gaze was fixed on the dying flames, as if mourning them.

"Serving me does not mean that you should neglect yourself. Should you wish to take on a lover or start a family, this little boy will not get in your way."

What was she even talking about? "I don't understand what milady is implying, and I don't think you understand what being with you means to me."

"Oh." She looked down at her feet. "Just the senseless ramblings of a teenager, that is all. Pay them no heed."

 

On the eastern mountain, everyone gathered. With all the gems recovered, she was ready to call for the power. But the divine had been in slumber and would be no match to the evil which had fully revived, so instead they would be sent to a time before the ruin, where there was still a world to be saved.

His brows arched when she donned a mask and hid her long hair in preparation.

"The mask may be necessary, but I do not see how the hair would trick anyone." He considered her, serious as always. "You are a beautiful woman not only in my eyes."

Her breath caught.

The group of life attracted evil like bees to honey, a problem which multiplied tenfold when the gate was opened. They could not travel like this, not when every person was needed to fight, and the gate could not accommodate them all.

"Go, milady," he said, cutting down his enemy with expert skill.

She could not understand. "Yes, let's go."

"The gate cannot take us all. Go with your peers - the rest of us will keep the way clear."

To leave him here, in a world where there was nothing left? Unthinkable.

The group split into two. This was it. Suddenly it was goodbye.

Those things would not stop coming. With fewer fighters, his group struggled, screaming for the children to leave. Now. But no one could bear to leave this way.

She grabbed his hand. His attention divided, a spell grazed him.

She did it again. She caused him to get injured again.

"You're hurt."

He felled the enemy with one strike. "A scratch. Please, go now. Time is of the essence."

"I demand that you come with me! You said you will serve me until you perish!"

"That is exactly what I am doing. The gate would not take one more."

She didn't care. As the others charged forward to push the enemies back, she held him tight.

"Did you not say that being with me means much to you?"

He froze, then composed himself. "Keeping you safe means even more, my sweet."

Tears rose. But she knew he was right, and what she must do. The longer she dallied, the more dangerous it was for everyone.

He smiled when she let go and reached for his collar instead, tugging gently.

"Farewell, milady. Safe travels."

One step, and another, she stepped backwards inside the gate. Her last vision was of him charging into battle, brave and true, just as a knight should be.

 

_ coda _

"Pardon me..."

She looked up. Her father's knight had furrowed his brows, looking quite confused as he touched his own collar to check that his ribbon tie was still there.

"This is from someone most important to me," she explained.

He cocked his head. "What a coincidence."

"Indeed." She pulled her glove back on to protect the ribbon she had kept around her wrist. "You were saying?"

"Ah, I was simply curious what milady plans to do once the war is over."

She didn't need to think. "Return to whence I came."

His frown deepened. "Would that be wise? I am under the impression that there is nothing left in that future."

She smiled, glowing. Because if she kept smiling, then so would her knight.

"Everything is there for me."


End file.
